


Egg rolls ?

by hazelandglasz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Comfort Food, Cooking, Cooking Lessons, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 03:56:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1884426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As in seeing deaged!Derek, in the first two episodes of Season 4 but particularly the second one, lighting up at the mention of food gave me ideas (and headcanons but that's alright)</p><p> </p><p>In reference : http://hazelandglasz.tumblr.com/post/90551494680/helenish-sterekallaround-eggroll</p>
            </blockquote>





	Egg rolls ?

He knows that he has a reputation.

That most people assume that he is grumpy, who only smirks when others - as in, Stiles, most of the time - get hurt, but they couldn't be more wrong.

Well, they wouldn't think that if they offered him food, every now and then.

Even as a kid, Derek has always loved food.

That sensation that he could feel his mother, father and aunts' love through each and every meal largely contribute for his everlasting love for a good meal.

Food is ... Derek is not going to say that food is everything that is right in the world, but it's a close call.

On a bad day, give him a good omelette, fluffy and still a little bit runny, with a piece of toast and he can feel his troubles actually melting away from him.

When the Pack does include him in a "bonding night," like Scott calls them, and they choose the pizzas they're going to get, Derek smiles to himself, barely concealing his moan of pleasure as the dough breaks between his teeth, as the tomato sauce - with two packs of spicy oil - explodes on his tongue like his very own firework and as the cheese covers his mouth, lingering on long after the pizza is obliterated.

But the type of food that really gets his motor revving, so to speak?

Chinese food.

God the richness of that cuisine, the possibilities offered by noodles fried - or not -, with vegetables and meat or fish, with a light, explosive sauce or a light, heavily spiced stock -- it's really Derek's comfort food of choice, and most importantly, the one he actually tries to learn to replicate.

Back in New York, he had taken lessons, but the only thing he had mastered cooking was Sesame chicken.

Laura loved it.

But now, he tries to make his own egg rolls, even though Hsin Hsin makes delicious ones.

There is something special about cooking from scratch, and since he's the next host for the Pack bonding - after insisting, of course - he wants to cook for his Pack.

After Mexico, after the whole were jaguars mess, he thinks that they all need the reprieve.

The meats are all cooked, waiting in different bowls when Stiles barges into the loft.

"What's going on?" Derek asks, keeping his eyes on the skillet on the fire - no matter what the emergency, it won't help to have a fire hazard on top of it.

"Nothing," Stiles says with a crooked smile, "just wanted to check that you're still, you know, today's you, and not baby cheeked you."

"Baby chee- okay, you know what, I don't want to know what other jokes you have for me," Derek says, fingers busy folding the skin over the mixture, and he tries to keep it in, but his tongue pokes out of his mouth as he focuses.

"Oh, you're cooking, whatcha doing?" Stiles asks, strutting to stand next to him, his eyes widening as he takes all the ingredients in. "Egg rolls?" he asks, his smile widening in a very attrac-

Nope, not going there, no matter what his amnesic incident might say.

"Wait," Stiles says, reaching to cover Derek's hand with his own in a reflex. Derek looks at him with raised eyebrows and Stiles doesn't budge. "The oil isn't hot enough yet."

"How do you know?"

"I can tell," Stiles says, "but you have to listen to know - it's like riding a bike, you learn to develop intuitions."

Derek wants to smack himself - the whole Pack knows that Stiles cooks - Polish, Spanish, French, Italian ... and Chinese - for his father, to avoid ordering dishes without being able to check the amount of grease put in it.

"What do you mean, listen?" he asks, and Stiles lets go of his hand to stand in front of the fryer.

"You don't want the oil to boil, but it has to start simmering," Stiles explains, pointing at the oil. "Give me a fork, please?"

Derek silently hands the tool, and Stiles scoops just a little drop of dough that he lets fall into the oil. "Look," he tells Derek, and he leans forward to look into the pan. "It starts bubbling around the dough, so it will be ready soon".

Derek smiles at the frying droplet before turning to Stiles. "Thank you," he says, trying to convey how thankful he really is, and he must achieve that, if the blush on Stiles' face is any indication.

"Nah, it's okay, took me several tries to get that one - several tries, a handful of blisters and a quick look-out on Youtube," Stiles replies, waving him away as he takes a step back, letting Derek deal with the frying part.

They fry, Stiles stops Derek one more time "listen, for fuck sake you're a werewolf, use your super hearing, it's - not - cooked!" and then they take the egg rolls out of the oil, to cool on a rack.

And honestly, Derek could cry because they look perfect.

"Wow," Stiles says, poking the golden rolls.

"Leave them be," Derek growls and Stiles blows him a raspberry.

"You made egg rolls!" Scott exclaims when they arrive at the loft, and Stiles exchanges a look with Derek before joining Scott on Derek's couch.

"Hell yeah!"


End file.
